Penns Creek, PA at Green Drake time. Hallowed ground. Maybe the Hendricksons on the Upper Delaware come close, but this really is the holy grail of eastern flyfishing. Approach on your knees with the proper reverence.
Serious guys taking themselves seriously, reminding me of the great line from Greg Brown..."looking like everything just kinda stuck to 'em the last time they walked through ol' LL Bean..." Hushed latin whisperings overheard..."ephemerella grandis...quid pro quo...sic semper tyrannis..."
And then there was us. Four or five dads, a mom or two, and five kids rampaging through the woods at the top of their lungs. Falling in, dropping cameras, throwing rocks, playing tag, occasionally making a cast or two. Random screamings. Real life. Bet the fancy guys hated it, but they probably needed it too. I know I did.
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3 comments:
Those fancy-pants flatlanders don't catch anything anyway. Hope you had a blast. Toss any wooly buggers under those drakes?
Distilled the whole evening into one beautiful abstract. Lovely! Great pics and memories. Thanks Rico.
Is that Kendall with the sandwich and MiniJulie in the tiedye? Good going, getting all those kids on the water!
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